


A little salt can't ruin even the sweetest things

by evakuality



Series: Let's talk about it [3]
Category: SKAM (Norway)
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Canon Compliant, Discussions of Homophobia, M/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-10-05 17:02:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17328971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evakuality/pseuds/evakuality
Summary: Part of the 'lets talk about it' series, standalone fics that fit into that general heading and all deal with moderately awkward conversations.  In this one, Isak and Even address how they reacted to the homophobe in the street before Isak's 18th birthday party.





	A little salt can't ruin even the sweetest things

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a mixture of two prompts: _Isak's 18th Birthday. Although they celebrate with pals, more goes on surely - not smut, I mean relationship stuff and chat._ and _I was thinking about the scene where evak got confronted with that homophobe,and I realized that I never have read a fiction about that particular incident.Isak’s response contrasted with Even’s reaction who did his best to calm him,what might had happened right after they left the birthday party and came back to home? It must have been something hard to forget for both of them,how do you think the conversation went?_
> 
> Again, I don't think it really exactly fits either of them, but it is what my brain decided to write. So I hope you enjoy <3

It’s still buzzing in Even, the worry.  The anxiety that everything’s not completely perfect.  Despite the reassurances of their friends, Even still knows, deep in his heart, that Isak has to put up with so much shit from Even that it’s a miracle that he’s stayed with him as long as he has.  There’s not a day that goes by without Even marvelling at his own ability to fuck things up, and he constantly wonders how on earth Isak puts up with it all.

And on this day, which was meant to be the most perfect day Isak could desire, a day designed to give him everything Even feels he doesn’t usually, a day to celebrate  _ him, _ that asshole homophobe had ruined it all.  Oh, sure, Isak looks like he’s enjoying himself.  He’s here in the park with their friends, laughing with Eva, snarking with Sana, exchanging wry eyebrow raises with Jonas, teasing Magnus.  

His eyes flick to Even so often he thinks he must be getting whiplash, particularly in the few minutes since he’d found Even’s video (but maybe that was because of Even’s reference to his boner; there’s something in those green eyes that suggests Isak really wants to ditch and leave to deal with it).  And the smile that blooms on Isak’s lips every time he looks over could melt entire ice continents. It’s soft and adoring, slow to appear as if Isak doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. But Even knows Isak like the back of his hand, and he knows when his boy isn’t entirely at ease. There’s a small tension in his body, barely there in the way he holds himself taller than usual and the way his fingers tap on his leg occasionally.  But it’s enough that Even knows, and feels all the shame that today of all days, he wasn’t able to protect Isak from feeling this way.

Isak looks over at him again and quirks his eyebrow.  He’s puzzled, fine lines creasing between his brows. He’s sensed there’s something wrong with Even, then.  It’s a curse, Even thinks ruefully, that Isak can read him just as well as he can read Isak. He pulls on his most convincing smile and nods back towards Chris and Mahdi, who Isak is currently talking to.

It doesn’t work.  Isak’s face creases further into its frown, and he says something soft to Chris, making her laugh, before he starts pushing through the groups of people to get to Even.

“Halla, baby,” Isak says when he reaches him, presses a kiss to his lips and lets his fingers curl around Even’s arm.  It’s solid, warm. Makes Even feel safe and loved and is what he wishes he could give Isak in return.

“Hey,” he says, his body instinctively swaying towards Isak’s as it always does when they’re this close.  His own hands catch onto Isak’s waist, and he seeks the warmth and comfort he always gets when they’re together.  The boner Even mentioned in his text may have been facetious, a tongue-in-cheek reference to Even’s fascination with numbers which mean something, and particularly to 21.21.  But it’s definitely trying to make its presence known now, with their bodies close and that look back in Isak’s eyes.

“I mean it,” Isak says softly.  His hands are now in Even’s hair, cupping just behind his ears, his thumbs resting along Even’s jawline.  It’s blissful and Even closes his eyes for a moment before he looks at Isak again. The expression on that face is so fond, so adoring, that Even’s breath catches.  “I love you so fucking much. That video you made is the most beautiful thing anyone has ever done for me.”

“Yeah?” Even asks, hopeful.  Maybe the day isn’t completely wasted, after all.

Isak nods.  “Yeah. I almost fucking cried.  Right here with everyone.”

Even laughs, lets his hands drift up Isak’s back, under the jacket he’s wearing.  He kisses Isak, slow and sweet, gets caught up in the moment. Feels the tingle building in his belly, the familiar curl of desire, lets himself fall into it as the boner becomes even more of a reality.  They’re interrupted by a whooping sound that makes Isak jump back and look around, clearly uncomfortable. A quick glance lets Even know that no-one’s paying any attention to them, and he squeezes Isak, to pull his attention back to Even.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Isak breathes into Even’s mouth as he kisses him again.  “It’s all good. This is the best birthday.”

“It’s not as good as it could be,” Even mumbles as he pulls back a little to gauge Isak’s reaction.  “You still seem a little tense after that asshole earlier.”

“Mmmm,” Isak sighs, leaning his forehead on Even’s.  “I just never get used to it. Always forget until they jump out of nowhere.”

Even opens his mouth to apologize.  He’s not even entirely sure what he’s apologizing  _ for, _ but before he can figure it out and articulate it, Isak’s smiling at him.

“But I don’t want to think about that right now.”

“No?”

“No.  Right now, I want my sexy boyfriend to come with me while I go talk to all my asshole friends.  Since you won’t let me go home just yet.” His eyes soften as he gazes at Even. “I miss you when you’re not there.”

Even could say something at that, could tease Isak, remind him that it’s healthy to stay apart sometimes.  But the truth is that it’s Isak’s birthday, and Even is just as keen to spend time with him. Wants to do whatever he can to make it as perfect as possible, even in the aftermath of that’s asshole.  So he just accepts the outstretched hand and follows Isak to the rest of the group.  
  


A couple of hours later and they’re stumbling their way to the tram.  They’re tipsy, Isak giggling a little more than usual, and Even maybe a little more effusive with all his actions; smiling a little more widely, throwing his arms around a little more forcefully, letting his love seep into his gaze a little more often.  They hold it together as they get on the tram and make their way down the aisle to a seat. It’s nice, being able to sit snuggled next to Isak, who’s a little more open when he’s drunk and lets his head fall onto Even’s shoulder every time he laughs at one of Even’s dumb dick jokes.

Eventually Isak sighs and leans his head back on the seat.  He squints over at Even.

“Thank you for today, baby.  It’s been amazing.”

“You’re always welcome,” Even says, feeling like it was completely inadequate as a way to tell Isak just how much he means to Even but glad that he seems to have enjoyed it all the same.

“Even that asshole wasn’t  _ that _ bad,” Isak says, turning his eyes to the front of the tram as if scouting for people who might overhear.  Even glances around, too. There’s one young couple sharing earbuds a few rows ahead of them and an old lady sitting primly at the front, her knees perfectly aligned and her bag held stiffly on her lap.  No-one’s close enough to disturb them.

The comment Isak made is an opening, however, and Even is delighted to take it.  He rests his hand on Isak’s knee, rubs his thumb over the soft roughness of his jeans as if absentmindedly.  In reality, Even is deliberately doing what he can to soothe Isak before they continue the conversation. It seems to be working; Isak sighs happily and his body relaxes against Even’s.

“It’s not like you to react like that,” Even says carefully, dropping his voice to ensure their privacy, even though there’s no chance they could be overheard anyway.

Isak shrugs, another small giggle erupting out of him.  It’s a good sign and Even also relaxes slightly.

“It’s just so … fuck, Even, I only just got used to being comfortable in public with you, and then some asshole comes out of nowhere with that shit.”  He leans back a little, and looks much less drunk than he had before. “It didn’t worry you, though,” he says, squinting at Even. “Why? I just got  _ so _ fucking angry, but you … didn’t.”

“It’s not that it didn’t bother me, baby,” Even says.  “It’s that I was more worried about you.”

He turns his head enough that he can kiss the curls that immediately tickle his nose when he does so.  Isak’s lost the snapback somewhere among his friends. Even thinks he last saw Mahdi wearing it, and he isn’t unhappy that it’s missing.  He loves the way Isak’s hair spills riotously around his head when it’s not caught under the hat. “It’s your birthday, and I wanted it to be perfect.”

Isak hums his understanding.  “It  _ was _ perfect.”  He smiles when Even shakes his head.  “I meant it; even that asshole wasn’t that bad.  You know why?” His grin widens when Even shakes his head again.  “It’s because you were so amazing. Because you know exactly how to help me chill.”  He pauses for a moment, thinking before he adds, “and because that asshole just proved how awesome our friends are.”

He stops, looks out the window, his eyes serious now.  Even can almost hear the cogs turning in his head, but he’s not sure where Isak’s thoughts are taking him.  Then Isak shrugs and smiles, looks back at Even.

“I wish it didn’t happen,” Even says, and he can hear the shame and sorrow in his voice.  

“Nah.  It is what it is.  And it’s like you always say about cooking.”

“I taught you something about cooking?  I’m amazed.” Even chuckles at the affronted look on Isak’s face.  

Isak scowls.  “You want to hear my wisdom or not?”

“I thought it was my wisdom,” Even says, dragging Isak in for another hug.  Then he relents and says, “of course I want to hear it.”

Isak gives him a smug grin.  “Even the sweetest things need a little salt to bring out the flavor.”

“I never thought of it that way,” Even says.  “So … the good seems better when it’s contrasted with something shit?”

“Yeah,” Isak says.  “Like cooking. People and cooking are the same.”

“Oh, you’re an expert cook now?”

Isak laughs, lets his head drop onto Even’s shoulder.  “I told you … I’m the master.”

“Okay then, master.  I’ll believe you.”

The silly thing is, that Even  _ does _ believe him.  Isak has a quick temper and he does anger easily, getting fired up quickly.  But unlike Even, who will worry things over and over in his head, Isak can often quickly analyze things, get them sorted in his mind and then put them into perspective.  Even believes it’s probably a nicer way to be, even if he doesn’t like the anger if he ever lets himself feel it.

He looks at Isak’s profile, at the satisfied exhaustion that sits on him, and the way he’s already pushed the guy out of his mind, gently humming some terrible song to himself.  Even resolves to try to be more like him. Though preferably without the anger that spills out so easily first.

Their stop is called and Even gathers their things as fast as he can, then holds his hand out to Isak.  Isak glances at the other people around them, then smiles. Takes the hand and lets Even pull him to his feet.  There’s a satisfying weight to him, telling Even that he’s relaxed enough to put all his trust in Even to get him off the seat.  Happy enough to let them be seen by anyone who might happen to look around.

“Love you, baby,” Even whispers as they make their way towards the exit.  The old lady smiles as they pass her and nods a recognition. Even realises they’re still holding hands and lets his own lips curve into a smile.  Not everyone is an asshole, he thinks. Isak turns to him with a wide smile and a slight return of the tipsy sway and Even can feel his heart expanding.  Isak curls his fingers more tightly around Even’s and then they’re off the tram and in their own little world again, wrapped in darkness as the lights of the tram move off into the distance.  It’s good, it’s theirs.

“Best birthday ever,” Isak sighs contentedly as they start walking home, and this time Even is almost ready to believe him.  This time, he lets himself accept that he  _ can _ do things right, that he  _ can _ make Isak happy, and that even a little salt can’t ruin something wonderful.


End file.
